


Be Careful What You Wish For

by ChasingBirds



Category: BBC Sherlock, Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Sherlock (TV), Supernatural, Superwholock - Fandom
Genre: Demons, Hallucinations, Hospitals, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Time Travel, Un-Beta'ed, djinn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-14 02:55:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1250134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChasingBirds/pseuds/ChasingBirds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>* “You want me to … what?”<br/>Sherlock, finally taking a hold of what's happening, walked farther into the room, already holding his card out to John.<br/>“Come on, John – John – Johnny! It isn't a good sign to greet nice people without a cup of tea and biscuits” - the Doctor said cheery - “and only two people in this room know how long my journey has been.”<br/>“So ...”<br/>“Yes, John. It is required of you to leave this apartment so we can talk.”<br/>“But you've never ever ...”<br/>“John, now!”<br/>John grabbed the card that Sherlock had been holding between his fingers and stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut. *</p><p> </p><p>Already ten people have been attacked by Djinn. All almost at the same time, all over the world.<br/>While the doctors have no idea how to deal with this unknow form of coma the Winchesters meet a man who thinks to have found the person who might be able to help them track down these Djinn and save the lives of many.<br/>The only problem is that this person himself has been touched by one of the them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Two Doctors

**Author's Note:**

> I'm somewhat new to this whole writing-fanfictions-thing. So excuse all the little mistkaes that might accure.  
> Feel free to leave some comments.

Sherlock and John entered their flat on 221 Baker Street, having solved just another case. Once again Scotland Yard was unable to solve it on its own. Once again Lestrade had to involve Sherlock. And once again he concluded that, well, they were watching but not observing, therefore overlooking important hints the murderer left here and there that led Sherlock deduction be a child's play.

Boring and simple as always.

He and his friend, John Watson with whom he's been sharing a flat were smiling at each other, remembering all the insults Anderson had to endure while Sherlock was searching around for anything he needed. Today he was even more of a nuisance than he normally was, always being in the way and distracting Sherlock.

After taking their breaths, they moved towards the door of their flat.

“You do realize that Lestrade is going to call you soon and have a talk with you about your behaviour, Sherlock?” - John asked.

“I prefer to doubt that he truly would like to investigate in the future without someone who knows his job.” - Sherlock answered.

“Furthermore, it is -”

There he was.

Sitting in his favourite armchair, head turning towards the door that had been just opened.

The Doctor.

“What, what is it, Sherlock?” John sounded confused, maybe even a little bit worried.

“Nothing, John. Just -”

“Just an ol' friend visiting!” - Doctor finished.

Frowning, John tried to enter the room, passed Sherlock who seemed to be stuck in the threshold.

And then he saw him: Brown spiked hair, a simple blue suit. And Chucks. Who – John thought – would ever dress like that?

The man stood up and walked over to them.

“Hey, I'm the Doctor, nice to meet you, John”

John starred, switching between the outstretched hand and the Doctor's face.

“I'm also a Doctor, but -”

“No, no “ - he was interrupted, “no. Look, you are A doctor while I, well, am THE Doctor. There's a small difference between that, don't you think, Sherlock?”

John turned around to look in the same direct the Doctor was looking.

Sherlock still stood in the same place since he opened the door. He had a look on his face whether John nor the Doctor have seen on his face: he looked puzzled, caught off guard even, his hand holding the doorknob tight just to reassure himself that it was happening. The Doctor found him, didn't leave him behind, didn't abandon him. Has come back.

“Oh, well, I think you don't remember -”

“So you two really know each other?” Now it was John's time to interrupt.

“Yeah, you know, we used to do these little things together from time to time.” The Doctor was watching Sherlock carefully, as if waiting for a sign, for something he himself couldn't quiet put his finger on.

John looked at him sceptically. “Like what, if I may ask?”

“Like saving the Earth, a planet, the whole universe even! Funny times, I'm telling you” - the Doctor grinned at John.

“I doubt you are aware of the nonsense that you are talking about. You never -”

“John, please. Could you go and buy us some milk and maybe some biscuits if you're on the way already?” - Sherlock finally came to his senses.

John starred, his mouth wide opened, eyes widened by the unexpected change.

“You want me to … what?”

Sherlock, finally taking a hold of what's happening, walked farther into the room, already holding his card out to John.

“Come on, John – John – Johnny! It isn't a good sign to greet nice people without a cup of tea and biscuits” - the Doctor said cheery - “and only two people in this room know how long my journey has been.”

“So ...”

“Yes, John. It is required of you to leave this apartment so we can talk.”

“But you've never ever ...”

“John, now!”

John grabbed the card that Sherlock had been holding between his fingers and stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut.

“So, now we're alone, Doctor. How come ...”

“There's no time for that. I am here because John left your bed. You remember it, don't you?” The Doctor was examining him very closely.

Sherlock cocked both of his eyebrows.

“Listen, it is very important that you listen to every word I'm telling you. You are in a dream. You are not a detective or whatever it is that you think you are. John is your companion here because you remember yourself being my companion. This ALL is an illusion, you're dreaming without realizing it. Do you understand?”

The Doctor looked at him. He seemed lost, seemed to not understand any of this.

“But how ...”

“Yeah, right. I don't quite know what's causing it and how, but it must be some kind of a creature, putting you to sleep, making you wander in you subconsciousness. I met some people, they said you have to be aware of it, of the situation, that you're only sleeping. That way you can wake up.” The light bulbs in the living room exploded. “Alright, remember: this all is just a dream – a nightmare they said – and this creature is feeding on you, it feasts on your fear. Remember that. I can't stay here.”

The Doctor started moving towards the door Sherlock took him by his arm.

“Doctor, if this is a dream than no one can get hurt, right? I don't have to worry about Molly, Mrs. Hudson, … John.”

“No, you don't have to. As long as they are safe in your reality and not in the hands of this creature, Sherlock.”

Shocked, he let the Doctor's arm. Was that it? Was that how he, his friends are going to leave this world?

Sherlock closed his eyes, his chest rising with the deep breath, listening to the sound of the door opening.

“And how do I know they are safe then, Doctor?”

Turning around, slowly fading, he answered with a voice full of unspoken apologies: “You don't.”


	2. Doesn't sleep sound awfully dreadful now, dear?

A cold night on a lonely road. The rain was hammering on the car's roof and windows to AC/DC's “Thunderstorm”, making the tension between the brothers even more intense.  
“So -” It's been like this since they were kids: Dean and Sam, they both never knew how to talk about anything but hunting demons and other creatures. The last months events have been anything but uplifting to their spirits and none of them had the guts to start processing them. Not now where there is a bigger thing going on – a powerful Djinni who has already put more then ten people to “sleep”.  
“- He turns up out of nowhere and what? Like asks us to save his friend?” Dean looked away from the road and tried to read anything that was on Sam's mind on his face.  
“Well, I never thought he would have a friend to begin with. But yeah, that's what happened.” Sam seemed to be deep In his thoughts, that much was clear. But what was exactly that was crossing his brother's mind Dean couldn't tell.  
“Yeah, and that we should dig up more about these Djinn since they seem to be … well, a different kind or something.”  
“A different kind? What, our Doctor-I've-Seen-The-Universe is an experienced hunter now?” Why was he getting angry? Only because of that? Because of his brother not willing to understand why Dean crossed all of his own boundaries just to save him from dying?  
Instead of picking up the fight he let his fingers cling tighter around the steering wheel, clenched his teeth and stepped on the gas.  
“Well, no, not really but he described the patients. And from what I can I tell they all show signs of a different condition. They all seem to hallucinate while dreaming but they all are able to hold a communication for some minutes from time to time.”  
Dean coughed.  
“But that's not the only strange thing about this, right?” He, once again, looked over to his brother.  
Before answering, Sam took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair.  
“Actually yeah. So get this, this attacks has been reported all over the world – two here, one in Canada, another five in the UK and Europa – right? But they also took place during a 24-hours-interval.”  
“So what do you think it means? That there's a shit load of Djinn who decided to stop living on their own and start an organized crime or something?”  
“Desperate times call desperate measures, Dean. And who knows, maybe it's the only way that they can survive now. With locked Heaven and battle for the throne of Hell. There's no order, no guaranty that tomorrow will be better. Who knows what they have planned?”  
Silence that followed his words was pierced by the tunes of “Shoot to Thrill”. The rest of the ride the Impala was filled with the notes of “Back in Black” and their heavy breaths.  
At the old Bunker, that used to inhabit the Men of Letters in the past and was now the closest thing to a home that the Winchester brothers could ever have, Dean stopped the car.  
“So, we dig up some stuff and go all the way to London?”  
“Yeah, kind of.”  
They both got out of the car with two grocery bags each and ran towards the stairs to the heavy door of the Bunker. Just as Sam unlocked the door and rushed inside a steady hand stopped Dean from following his brother.  
“Dean, I heard there were attacks on several people. I wonder if I could lend my assistance in your investigations.”  
Him. Of course him.  
He always appeared out of nowhere, offering help when he himself had so much going on around him, involving him. Ever so selfless and supportive. Ever so broken, being torn between his old self and his new-found conscientiousness.  
Castiel.  
“Well, there's not much to tell, Cas.”  
“I could be of big help, you know?”  
Dean bit on his lower lip.  
Ever so head over heels in his desire to make up for his past actions.  
A deep breath in, a long-drawn-out breath out.  
“Djinn” - he finally said. “Ten attacks. Get in, Cas, don't let us catch a cold.”  
Moments later, Castiel and Dean stood on the stairs leading down to the well-lit central area of the Bunker.  
“Hello, Sam” - said Castiel before Sam even had the chance to realize he was there.  
“Oh, um, hi, Castiel. What are doing here?”  
“Helping you with the case. Djinn are old creatures and never organized any attacks in all the time that I can recall. This is quite strange and therefore I though you might need some help that I can provide. I believe that there is more to it than them just feeding on human beings.”  
“So, you're in on this one?”  
“Yes.”  
“Alright. Then we should all grab some books I suppose. Dean, fill him on while I search for some.”  
And so he turned around and walked farther into the 'batcave' and into the library to look for anything on the subject at hand.  
“So, um,” - began Dean after there was more than enough distance between them and him - “you, um, you're in this too, huh?”  
“It concerns me, Dean. I know I'm not a hunter but I can give you access to information that might provide you with important knowledge. This … attacks concern not only me but also other angels – maybe even demons – and this is not well. These kind of things never end well, Dean.”  
And he truly meant it. So much Dean could tell, his eyes were reflecting his uncertainty, fear even that find a home in his friend. What was it that after so many years, creatures and hells something like a group of Djinn could drive him almost to insanity?  
Something really bad.  
And from rapid the lifting and lowering of his ribcage it might have happened already. In the past.  
“Cas, Cas, listen. All's fine, right? We've got this.” - Dean put one of his hands on his shoulder and the other on his upper arm and held him firmly. - “Cas, look: We've got these dam' old books and records here. And we have you. We're going to find something, alright? Chin up, we've got this.”  
It seemed to soothe him. First the mask of panic washed from his face, then the breathing became more regularly.  
“Thank you, Dean.”  
“Yea, Cas. Now let's get to work. Night won't wait any longer, huh?”


End file.
